


Between You and Me This Is Where I Want To Be

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [220]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Bruises, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Protective Stephen Strange, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: "Didn't you get any sleep last night?"Day 9. Choking
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [220]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1118655
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	Between You and Me This Is Where I Want To Be

**Author's Note:**

> As always I'm not doing these prompt list in order or daily, just whenever inspiration strikes.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

Tony tensed at the sound of Stephen’s voice, weary and thin. His partner was standing in the doorway, eyes slowly drifting down toward his throat, making Tony reach up unthinkingly to massage at the bruised skin. There was the ghostly sensation of fingers squeezing, digging in and cutting off his air and he found there were no words to be said, unwilling to feel that ache again.

Instead he shook his head.

Stephen didn’t pry, didn’t ask about nightmares and pain and memories. No, he slipped into the room on silent sock-clad feet and got to work. Tony watched curiously from his place on the stool as a kettle was filled with water and tea was carefully selected. When he made a face, Stephen finally glanced up, “it’ll help.”

He didn’t doubt it. That didn’t mean he was so willing to give up his morning coffee. Unfortunately, he had no voice to argue you with and Stephen was quick to block his attempt to go for the coffee maker, easily maneuvering him back onto the seat with an amused huff.

Despite the sound, Tony didn’t miss the way his smile flickered and died as he turned away to watch the heating kettle, didn’t miss the way Stephen hadn’t touched him when directing him to the stool. Quite suddenly, he felt the loss of Stephen’s hands keenly as he tried to remember the last time those trembling fingers had held him, brushed back his hair, rested on his waist.

It didn’t come easily.

Tony’s stomach turned.

The pain in his throat turned abruptly oppressive as he stared at his partners back. Five days since Stephen had touched him. Five days since he’d woken up with Stephen at his side in bed. Five days since Stephen had begged him to go, to leave during an invasion of the Sanctum. Five days since his throat had been clear of bruises and his voice spoken without a hoarse croak.

Five days too long.

Tony was no stranger to guilt, particularly the special brand that came with hospital beds and loved ones. He also knew that few words could lessen the depth of it, the urge to dip below the surface and drown in the emotions and doubts that settled around you. He knew too, that sharp edge of protectiveness that made itself known, that was willing to sever any bond, suffer any pain if it meant keeping people safe.

Sitting there, in the Sanctum’s kitchen, with Stephen dutifully making a tea to sooth his throat and Wong somewhere in the library looking for charms to keep him safe for next time…Tony found himself abruptly, startingly, in _awe_.

He knew Stephen. Better then probably anyone in this shitty world. He knew exactly what he was feeling and how terrible it all was and somehow, somehow Stephen hadn’t kicked him out of the Sanctum, terrified of him getting hurt, hadn’t cracked beneath the guilt as of yet and tried to end things so that they could both be saved some pain.

They weren’t alright. Not even a little bit. Yet, for the first time since the Sanctum had been invaded and Tony’s suit had been too far away, and hands that were too big for a human and grotesque in sensation had tried to crush his throat beneath its grip, he felt himself relax in the place he called home.

Tony had been through far worse. They both had. Still, it was difficult to be attacked in a place you thought of as safe, to be faced with death so abruptly. The thing was, Tony hadn’t been alone, not like when Obadiah had tried to steal his lifeforce, not like when he’d had to try and rescue Pepper. Rhodey came both times but always too late, always to fix the damage and not prevent it.

Helplessness had never been something Tony could deal with.

This time. This time Stephen had been there and Wong not far behind. Had pulled the creature off him and with one hand trying to heal, had held back the horde with the other. Tony imagined it would look quite brilliant if he hadn’t been desperately trying to suck in air while bones snapped back into place and his throat slowly restructured itself.

As it was. He had passed out almost immediately, watching through watery eyes as Wong joined the fray with sparks erupting from his fingers. The whole thing hadn’t been pleasant, but he’d woken up bruised and sore with nothing life-threatening hovering over him. The nightmares would remain but now Tony found himself wanting to reach across the counter and drag his partner into a hard hug.

So that was exactly what he did.

Standing, Tony slipped in behind Stephen and wrapped his arms securely around his waist. Tugging his startled lover into his chest he pressed a hard kiss, first to the long column of this throat and again to his chin, before finally his temple. Stephen sighed lightly, slowly relaxed into his grip, not protesting in the slightest and Tony allowed himself to smile.

“Thank you,” he whispered, each word hard won and croaking.

Trembling fingers settled over Tony’s where they remained on his stomach and the wave of contentment and longing that washed through him was enough to make him dizzy. Stephen didn’t say anything, simply grabbed the kettle which had just started squealing and went to pouring.

Luckily, he didn’t have to.

Tony had known exactly what he signed up for when he chose to live here at the Sanctum. Had promised and argued with Stephen extensively over the decision and he still stood by it. Apparently, Stephen was willing to do the same. They would have to talk of course, probably argue, knowing them, but in the end they would be okay.

“I love you,” Stephen murmured, spoon clinking against the cup as he stirred, eyes focused entirely on his task.

Tony hummed. His throat was too sore to answer so instead he simply pressed another kiss to the back of his neck and held him closer. Stephen’s smile was assurance enough that he understood.


End file.
